


#powercouple

by Evoxine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fanboys - Freeform, M/M, Romance, Social Media, Switching, kyungmyeon is a side pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Evoxine
Summary: Kim Jongin is a world-famous model and Oh Sehun is the owner of a famous fashion blog.Closet fanboys of each other for the longest time, they finally meet at a prestigious event.





	#powercouple

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted on LJ in **2015**. Apart from a quick read through to fix typos and stuff, **I did not edit much of the fic.**

Anyone would kill for a job that requires nothing but a computer, high-speed Internet, a few well-placed words, and a ton of pictures. At the age of twenty-one, Oh Sehun has that job. He had started his celebrity fashion blog – _The Milk Bottle_ – when he was eighteen, and after a couple of years of hard work and perseverance, it had finally started to take off. He easily records hundreds of thousands in blog views a week, and the number will rise up to a million (or more) whenever he chooses to blog about himself. His blog has rocketed him into fame, and with the money he makes off of sponsorships, endorsements, and appearances, he’s able to drop out of college and focus solely on the things he loves.

Friends of his will often say that Sehun’s a fan of compartmentalising – quite literally. His modest loft apartment is furnished with various types of shelves and other forms of storage, and everything he uses, from facial products to kitchen condiments, are sorted accordingly. Likewise, his Instagram is reserved almost solely for **#ootd** updates, whereas his blog is where he analyses and comments on the fashion choices of other celebrities, dotted with the occasional sponsored post or a detailed post about one of his **#ootds** that his followers have begged for.

Sehun will wake up every morning to hundreds of new likes on his Instagram – he’d just achieved a milestone of six million followers! – and a comparable number of new comments on his blog posts. He doesn’t reply to them; instead, he’ll spend a good twenty minutes scrolling through his Instagram feed for any potential sources of inspiration for his **#ootd** before checking his email for anything important (i.e. business emails or emails from his parents).

His morning beauty regime is rather simple, consisting of a three-step routine of cleansing, toning, and moisturising. Done in a matter of minutes, Sehun will munch on breakfast (usually brunch) as he wanders through his favourite room in his home – his walk-in closet. It’s a bad habit, and he’s gotten food stains on some of his clothes as proof. But he can’t seem to break it, and he can always buy a new pair of jeans or a blazer to replace the ruined ones if he really wants to.

The sun is always high in the sky whenever he heads down to the iconic stretch of city brick wall for his **#ootd** photoshoot session, tripod in one hand and trusty camera in the other. On most days, there’ll be a crowd hanging around waiting for his appearance, and Sehun will greet his fans with a smile, ignore the paparazzi, and send Chanyeol the usual _where are you?_ text.

When Chanyeol finally shows up, panting from his mad sprint, Sehun will relinquish his camera and tripod over to his friend and stride up to the wall. People move out of the way to give him space, and Sehun will spend no more than ten minutes in front of the lens. The only exception to that rule is when he’s got a sponsored post to make, and those shoots can take up to an hour to complete. After the shoot, Chanyeol will always follow Sehun back to his loft for his daily mug of coffee and customary raid of Sehun’s pantry. Chanyeol claims that allowing him to roam freely in the kitchen is Sehun’s way of paying him for his services.

Sehun’s workstation consists of an iMac (27‑inch with Retina 5K display), a Canon Inkjet photo printer, and a large corkboard covered with cutouts from fashion magazines, printed pictures of clothing items he really wants from the web, and polaroids of him and his friends. There’s a simple document tray positioned on the corner of his desk, and each of the five compartments are categorised into _Clothing Endorsements, Accessory Endorsements, Bills/Paycheques, To Consider,_ and _Modelling/Appearances._ The compartments are filling up – he should really buy another one.

After every shoot, Sehun spends no more than five minutes selecting a photo and tweaking the colour levels of his pictures on Photoshop. He doesn’t edit them (apart from cropping) in any other way. After he uploads it on Instagram, he’ll let Chanyeol usher him out the door and down to the car where Kyungsoo’s waiting, shades on and finger tapping on the wheel.

Kyungsoo is a well-known food blogger, and Chanyeol’s photography blog gets traffic thanks to his collaborations with both Kyungsoo and Sehun. Making a living through blogging isn’t as easy as it seems, and bloggers should really stick together.

Today, Sehun’s feeling exceptionally hungry, and he’s glad that Kyungsoo is such a foodie.

“Any plans for tonight?” Kyungsoo asks, pulling away from the curb and flapping his hand at a paparazzo in order to get him to move out of the way. “Junmyeon’s back from his trip to Sweden, and he’d like to grab dinner with everyone.”

Junmyeon, Kyungsoo’s long time boyfriend, is a cinematographer with an avid interest in short films and documentaries. His trip to Sweden was a two-week long project.

“I can make it,” Sehun answers, ignoring his phone as notification after notification pop up on his home screen. Instagram.

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol asks. “Doesn’t Kim Jongin have a schedule today?”

“I can always backtrack,” Sehun mutters, cheeks pinking. Chanyeol grins.

 

 

 

  
Kim Jongin is South Korea’s most sought-after male model, known for his smouldering gaze, full lips, and tall, lean frame. He was barely out of the last stages of puberty when he had burst onto the fashion scene, first conquering the heavily saturated teens and young adults fashion markets, shooting advertisements and magazine spreads, before transitioning into couture, walking down global runways and appearing on billboards. Recruited into his modelling agency after a scout had spotted him strolling down a packed street with friends, modelling had embraced him like a mother would her child, and today, Jongin’s name can be heard and seen everywhere.

Aside from modelling, Jongin spends his time around the art of dance. His first big purchase after landing multiple coveted modelling gigs is a dance studio located in the heart of the city. He’s too busy to teach, but he’ll drop by the studio after it’s closed just to spend some time alone in a brightly lit room, surrounded by mirrored walls and music. His Instagram is filled with mobile videos of dance snippets, and his most popular post to date is a piece choreographed to Janet Jackson’s _No Sleeep_.

Constantly under the media and the general public’s eye, Jongin keeps mostly to himself, socialising only with a small circle of friends outside of work and fellow models during shoots and shows. He watches an unhealthy amount of shows, preferring to lie in bed and finish an entire season in one day instead of stepping out and facing tens of lenses pointed in his face. Unable to live without his smartphone, Jongin relies on the device to keep him up to date on news, be it global, financial, or entertainment.

It’s through his phone that he discovers Sehun’s blog – the minimalistic logo of an outline of a milk bottle has him grinning with amusement at first glance. It was a Tuesday night, and Jongin had just gotten home after a fitting session at Givenchy’s. A reality show on television filled the silence, and a full glass of chardonnay kept him company. Tie loosened, Jongin had propped his feet up on the glass coffee table and picked up his phone. A few taps here and a few scrolls there led him to Sehun’s blog. Intrigued by the title and by Sehun’s picture on the sidebar (face half obscured by hair and shades), Jongin had skimmed through the latest blog post. After an hour had passed, Jongin found himself deep in _The Milk Bottle’s_ archive.

Now, Jongin makes it part of his daily routine to check Sehun’s blog. He agrees with everything Sehun says, whether it be a comment on the pattern of an afghan or a discussion over the cut of a trenchcoat. He looks forward to posts that feature Sehun himself – Jongin has to admit: Sehun is ridiculously attractive, and although he’s never seen a picture of Sehun without a pair of shades on, Jongin knows he’ll just be even more attractive with them off.

Sehun’s fashion sense is amazing, in Jongin’s opinion, and he’ll often purchase a few items that Sehun recommends his readers to check out. One day, Jongin had worn a watch that Sehun had featured in one of his sponsored blog post – Sehun had paired it with nothing but a fitted tee and skinny jeans (and his customary shades), but Jongin had loved how the watch looked, draped around his slim wrist and lean forearm, that he’d bought one on the spot – and netizens had jumped on the news, posting pictures of Sehun’s blog picture alongside shots taken of Jongin on the street. Comparisons sprung up between the two, and a popular entertainment website had referred to them as the fashion industry’s potentially biggest **#powercouple**. The hashtag had trended nationwide for a few hours.

After that, Jongin made it a point never to wear anything he’d purchased as a result of glancing through Sehun’s blog immediately after receiving it. His manager, a fan of Sehun herself, gleefully shows him Sehun’s Instagram one day – out of the twenty-four accounts he follows, Jongin discovers that he’s one of them.

“If you ever meet him, please take a picture with him,” his manager pleads. Jongin doesn’t even need her to tell him that.

 

 

 

  
“I can’t _believe_ you got an invitation to Vogue’s annual year-end party,” Baekhyun says for the _nth_ time. “And that you’re nominated for an award. I remember when we were both in elementary and you had those obnoxiously pink –”

“Okay,” Sehun interrupts quickly, “thank you for your input.”

Chanyeol looks over curiously, and Baekhyun shrugs in response.

“Please remember to bring some freebies home for me,” Baekhyun continues. “And take a ton of photos.”

Satisfied with his tie, Sehun straightens and spreads a thin layer of hair gel across his palms and fingertips before sweeping his hair back into a soft coif.

“I’ll try,” he answers, fixing a stray strand. “Can’t promise anything.”

Picking up a pair of cufflinks he’d found in an antique store, he slips them on and mists the air in front of him with cologne before stepping underneath the fragrant cloud. Another brief glance in the mirror tells him his makeup’s perfectly fine, and he nods at Chanyeol. The photographer reaches for the camera as Sehun reaches for his suit jacket, and the three of them make their way towards the wall.

Twenty minutes later, Sehun’s behind the wheel of his Mercedes GLK, a new post uploaded on Instagram, captioned with a simple: _suit up. **#ootn #vogue**_

Approximately twenty kilometres away, Jongin nearly drops his concealer stick when his manager bursts into the bathroom, waving her phone frantically in the air.

“What what what?” He demands, leaning away out of fear.

“He’s going to the party,” she stage-whispers, eyes wide. “ _Oh Sehun is going to the Vogue party_.”

Jongin blinks at the phone screen that his manager proceeds to thrust in his face. She’s pulled up Sehun’s Instagram, and the picture is of him in a tailored suit, hands in his pocket and the trademark pair of sunglasses perched on his nose.

“I see,” he says. “A lot of people will be there though, I probably won’t see him.”

“I’ll make sure you see him,” she hisses, and flounces out of the bathroom.

 

 

 

  
As it turns out, the first person Jongin sees when he steps into the venue is Sehun, weight resting on one leg as he chats with one of Vogue’s senior columnists. Jongin’s manager grabs at his arm, but before he can tell her to calm down, someone appears in front of them and effectively blocks Sehun from Jongin’s line of sight.

“Kim Jongin,” the young man gushes, bowing deeply. “It’s an honour. I’m a big fan.” Jongin sneaks a glance at his manager, who mouths a simple _k-pop idol_ back at him.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jongin answers politely, and accepts the idol’s offered hand. By the time the idol walks away with a picture with Jongin saved on his phone, Sehun’s nowhere to be seen. Jongin tries to scan the room without being blatantly obvious in doing so, but he’s barely covered a tenth of the area when a waifish model in his agency sidles up to him and initiates a conversation. Jongin pulls his foot back just in time to avoid having a stiletto heel pierce right through it.

Sehun, a few tables behind the one closest to Jongin, is too preoccupied with taking a picture of Baekhyun’s favourite actress to notice Jongin’s presence. Grumbling to himself, Sehun snaps a few shaky shots and pockets his phone immediately after, not wanting to seem like a Class A creeper.

It’s only when his stomach rumbles softly and he turns around to head towards the spread of food does he spot Jongin. As if burned by a cattle prod, Jongin swivels around, leaving the chattering model talking to the back of his head.

Realising he doesn’t have his sunglasses on, Sehun tries his hardest to school his features into one of impassivity. He heads in Jongin’s direction, but at the last minute, he walks around the table and continues towards the food. Jongin’s gaze is hot on his back, but Sehun simply refuses to let the model know he’s a (ridiculously huge) fan of his. If hashtags were tangible, the tag **#jonginsbiggestfanboy** would be floating above Sehun's head around right now. But thankfully, they’re not, and Sehun focuses his attention on placing hors d'oeuvres onto his plate in neat sections.

He’s debating over canapés when a pleasant, slight scent floats up his nostrils. It’s immensely pleasing, and Sehun looks over his shoulder – right into Jongin’s very, very handsome face. He tries his best not to stare at Jongin’s mouth.

After a moment of extremely tense silence, Sehun clears his throat and turns his entire body around.

“Hello,” he starts. “Am I in your way?”

“Hi,” Jongin replies. “No, you’re not. I was just… getting some shortbread.”

Jongin leans forward, and Sehun freezes on the spot when the shells of their ears brush as Jongin reaches for _shortbread_.

“Do I know you?” Jongin asks, pulling back and placing the shortbread neatly in his mouth.

Sehun lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t know, do you?”

Jongin doesn’t quite know what to say. Does he tell Sehun the truth? Admit that he’s a loyal follower (fan???) of his blog and that he’s very attracted to those eyes that are constantly hidden behind tinted lenses? Or does he lie and make up something vague?

“Maybe you’ve seen me in magazines,” Sehun shrugs. Jongin exhales in relief, thankful for the cop out provided by the blogger. “I get featured sometimes. I’m a fashion blogger.”

“Maybe,” Jongin nods. He swallows the dry pile of pastry in his mouth.

“Before you ask,” Sehun continues, “yes, I know who you are. Who doesn’t?”

With that, Sehun slips past Jongin and disappears into the crowd. Jongin doesn’t even have the opportunity to take a step after him before a photographer descends on him, the size of his lens extremely intimidating.

 

 

 

  
_Kim Jongin spoke to me!!!_ Sehun types out quickly. He sends the text to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo – not Baekhyun, for if Baekhyun knows about this, he’ll call and half the room will hear his screams. His food lies untouched on the table in front of him.

 _Have you confessed your undying love for him yet?_ Kyungsoo texts back.

 _Did you tell him how much you want him to bone you?_ Is what Chanyeol says.

Sehun ignores Chanyeol and sends a _I don’t love him_ back to Kyungsoo before pocketing his phone. Looking surreptitiously over his shoulder, Sehun spots Jongin giving an impromptu interview (from what Sehun can see, it seems as though it’s a reporter from Elle), a microphone in front of his glorious face.

Munching absently on his food, Sehun watches Jongin give his interview from start to finish. It’s a lengthy one, and Sehun’s almost cleared his plate when he sees the cameraman lower his equipment and the reporter retract her microphone.

He didn’t expect Jongin to come looking for him, but the instant the reporter and cameraman leave his side, the model looks over at him, gaze intent.

“You’re wearing the watch,” is the first thing Jongin says when he’s within arm’s reach of Sehun. He stays standing, and Sehun has to tilt his chin considerably to glimpse Jongin’s face.

“The… what? Watch?”

Confused, Sehun glances down at his wrist. It’s a watch he’d featured on his blog a while ago – wait. It's _the_ watch that Jongin was spotted wearing, too. That means... 

He chooses to continue feigning confusion. “You recognise this watch?”

Jongin takes a seat then, pulling the chair close to Sehun’s.

“I lied earlier,” he says, voice dropping an octave. Sehun tries not to swallow. “I do know you. And not from a magazine. I’ve been following your blog for close to a year now. I look forward to your updates – especially if it’s a post with pictures of you and not other celebrities. You have great fashion sense, as I’m sure you know. And you’re ridiculously attractive.”

Sehun feels the moisture from his throat vanish into thin air.

“You wanted to say more back at the buffet table,” Jongin continues. “Am I right?”

Sehun wants to deny vehemently, but when Jongin leans in expectantly and the scent of his cologne floods Sehun’s senses, his resolve weakens with every intake of air.

“I… am a big fan of yours,” Sehun admits in defeat. “I have all the magazines you’ve been featured in, and I watch all the shows that you walk in. Ever since that spread you did for GAP, I’ve been a fan.”

“That spread was years ago.”

“I know,” Sehun replies, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a large sip of it.

“And I’m one of the twenty-four people you follow on Instagram.”

“Yeah, you – wait, how’d you know that?”

Jongin’s lips quirk. “I’m your fan too, remember?”

 

 

 

  
They talk for the good part of an hour, and by the time the emcee steps up to the stage and introduces the start of the award ceremony, Sehun learns that Jongin has three dogs that live with his sister, that he drinks an unhealthy amount of coffee (and caffeine in general), and of the long list of pranks he’s pulled through middle and high school. Jongin finally unearths the reason behind Sehun’s love of sunglasses – ”I’ve been told my eyes are very expressive, and that they tend to give me away,” Sehun explains –, and listens attentively to Sehun’s complaints of someone named Byun Baekhyun.

“I should get back to my table,” Jongin murmurs, rising to his feet and returning the chair to a very starstruck fashion photographer who’d just broken out onto the scene. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye, alright?”

Sehun’s eyes never leave Jongin’s back, and he follows the model all the way back to his table, located close to the stage. The emcee is still talking, and Sehun forces himself to tune in.

There are twenty awards up for grabs tonight, and these awards range from recognising experienced talents to new, fresh faces in the business. Sehun spends the first three memorising Jongin’s moving profile, and it’s only when the emcee says the word ‘blogger’ does he _really_ pay attention.

“The award for The Most Influential Blogger of The Year goes to _The Milk Bottle’s_ Oh Sehun,” the emcee announces. “His blog receives steady traffic of tens of thousands of hits a day, and the number is only increasing with time. With dozens of endorsements and sponsorships under his belt, Oh Sehun’s fashion sense greatly appeals to his audience, which itself boasts a wide range of tastes. His fashion advice and commentaries have been widely accepted and respected in the fashion industry and by the general public. At the young age of twenty-one, he has a long way to go, and we are certain it can only go up.” Standing, Sehun suddenly finds his personal space invaded by various celebrities and acclaimed members of the fashion community, some trying to shake his hands and some clapping him on the back. Applause follows him up to the stage, and the trophy is sleek, sexy, and a nice weight in his hands.

“Wow,” he utters, stepping up to the podium. His voice floods the room, and Sehun tries not to cringe or search for Jongin’s face in the crowd.

“I never thought I’d win this award, to tell you all the truth. And as a result, I didn’t come with a prepared speech. I apologise in advance for my… spontaneity, but it’ll have to do, won’t it? I started my blog as a shy teenager with the goal of getting my own personal style and opinions out there. I never thought I’d be making a living off of it, much less being here amongst all of you renowned individuals. Receiving this award is nothing but humbling, and I promise I’ll work even harder from now on to shed a bright light on the fashion industry. Thank you to everyone who’s supported me and the growth of my blog, and thank you for this award.”

Applause rings in his ears, and Sehun hugs his award to his chest as he makes his way back to his seat. Photographers stop him along the way, and he lets them take too many pictures to count.

The high of winning is beginning to subside by the time the last – and most prestigious – award is due to be announced.

“The recipient of Vogue’s Quintessential Achievement Award of The Year should be widely known to everyone in this room. Through all his years in the modelling industry, he’s redefined what it means to _be_ a model and continues to do so. He conveys incredible emotions and imagery in all of his pictorials, and brings poise and finesse to his runways. Constantly breaking his own records – all three copies of his Vogue covers this year have successively sold more than the previous copy, and his latest cover stands as the highest-selling copy in our magazine’s history – and pushing himself past his own limits, we are glad and extremely honoured to present the award to no one other than Kim Jongin.”

Everyone in the room surges to their feet, and dozens of camera flashes go off in unison. One of the first people to rise, Sehun keeps clapping as Jongin makes his way up to the stage, shaking as many hands along the way as he can. There’s a soft smile playing along Jongin’s lips, and Sehun thinks it’s beautiful.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for words of encouragement as well as words of criticism from everyone I’ve worked with and encountered throughout the course of my career. My experiences in this industry have shaped me, my work ethic, and my aspirations, and I have all of you to thank. Thanks to my team – people who work tirelessly with me, thanks to everyone that I’ve had a pleasure to work with and thank you to those who consider me a rival. Eternal thanks to my family, for I wouldn’t be standing here without them. The future holds too many mysteries for us to fathom, but I do hope that most of them turn out great. I look forward to working with those of you whom I’ve already worked with before, and even more so to those I’ve never had the chance to work with.”

Sehun feels blood rushing a little faster through his ears, and he swears Jongin’s gaze sweeps over his table as he says that last line. He barely registers Jongin’s last words of thanks before he steps off the stage.

 

 

 

  
It’s past midnight when the party starts to die down and guests start to leave for home (or other parties). His phone has been buzzing every ten minutes for the past hour, and Sehun is not looking forward to dealing with a murderous Baekhyun when he finally answers a call/text. The thing is, he would check his phone right now, but what if Jongin appears out of nowhere when Baekhyun’s in the middle of complaining to him? If he cuts Baekhyun off halfway, he wouldn’t be forgiven for a good week or so, but if he ignores Jongin for Baekhyun…

He’s loitering around the front doors when Jongin finally comes up to him.

“Congrats on your award,” Jongin says, gesturing to the trophy in Sehun’s hands. His own award is nowhere to be seen.

“I should be saying that to you,” Sehun replies. “It’s a very prestigious award, and you deserve it.”

The second Jongin smiles, the steady, deep breathing that Sehun’s surprisingly managed to maintain for the duration of their conversation crumbles into pathetic whimpering. A glimmer ignites in Jongin’s eyes, and Sehun tries his very best not to blush. But when Jongin’s smile deepens into a grin, he knows he’s failed at that, too.

“I’ve booked a room here for the night,” Jongin says, choosing not to beat around the bush. The invitation hangs tantalisingly, almost visibly, in front of Sehun’s eyes.

His phone buzzes again.

“I have the night free,” Sehun answers, and he mentally commends himself for sounding relatively composed.

“Well, if you want, come up to the suite on the 12th floor in ten minutes,” Jongin says. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

The moment Jongin disappears into the elevator, Sehun whips out his phone and dials Baekhyun’s number. He finds a secluded corner and readies himself for an explosive greeting.

“OH SEHUN,” Baekhyun barks. “YOU DO KNOW THAT IGNORING SOMEONE IS RUDE BEHAVIOUR?”

“I think Kim Jongin wants to sleep with me,” Sehun blurts. Baekhyun falls eerily silent.

“What?” Baekhyun’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“He invited me up to his room,” Sehun tells him, and the reality of it all hits him square in the face when he hears himself saying those words.

“Oh my god?”

“I know?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TALKING TO ME THEN???”

Sehun hangs up.

 

 

 

  
True to his word, Jongin’s left the door to his suite open. Pausing with a hand on the handle, Sehun stares at the small sliver of space between the doorframe and the door. Is he actually going to go through with this? But when the door suddenly swings open and reveals Jongin gloriously shirtless, Sehun steps inside without hesitation.

Jongin shuts the door behind Sehun and engages the security latch. A little unsure of what to do, Sehun hovers around and drinks in the wondrous sight of the model standing in front of him. Under the bright lights, Sehun can make out faint acne scars on Jongin’s bare face, fading marks from his growing years. Glancing down, Sehun spies Jongin’s toes. He’s looking at Kim Jongin’s bare toes.

“Do you want to wash all that makeup off first?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

After toeing off his shoes, Sehun stuffs his socks into them and follows Jongin as the model leads him towards the bathroom. The carpet is soft between his toes, and somehow, the feeling manages to calm Sehun down.

“Take your time,” Jongin says. “As much as you need.”

Sehun can only nod, and Jongin leaves to give him privacy.

He does end up taking his time, wiping off the makeup slowly before washing the remnants off his face with the face wash sitting on the sink counter. As he pats his face dry with a fresh hand towel, he glimpses a small bottle of cologne sitting on the counter. It doesn’t have a label. Picking it up, he takes a whiff – instantly, he recognises it as the scent that Jongin was wearing earlier that night. His heart thrums, and Sehun quickly sets the bottle down.

Exiting the bathroom, he retraces his steps and shrugs off his suit jacket as he does so. He finds Jongin at the bar, a hand on the door of the mini wine cooler as he studies the limited selection contained within its three shelves. Sehun, on the other hand, can only stare at the toned muscles of Jongin’s obliques.

“Any particular preference?”

“Vintage Port,” Sehun says, rolling up his sleeves and undoing his tie.

“We only have Ruby Port,” Jongin says apologetically.

“That’s absolutely fine.”

Jongin pours out a generous amount of wine into two glasses, and it doesn’t take long for Sehun to drain his.

“You don’t do this much, do you?” Jongin observes.

Pinking, Sehun sets his glass aside. “I don’t. But even so, I wouldn’t be this nervous if it were someone else.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jongin continues, “I don’t usually do this either.”

He must’ve seen the brief flash of surprise across Sehun’s face, because he laughs and leans against the counter, a little embarrassed.

“I’m not denying the fact that I do get a lot of people throwing themselves at me, but I just have think about the scandals that could erupt if I gave in to them and the thoughts just completely...” He waves his hand in an attempt to finish his explanation.

Sehun is baffled. “But…”

“You’re different,” Jongin tells him. “I’m actually attracted to you.”

It’s a little painful, the way their lips meet. Jongin’s glass almost tips over when his elbow knocks into it, but it stays standing as Jongin pulls Sehun towards him and holds the base of his head steady. Sehun, caught off guard, bumps his hip into the side of the wine cooler. His grunt of pain dissolves when he finds himself very much immersed in Jongin’s space.

Jongin kisses him hungrily, and Sehun wants to gush like the fanboy he is when he tastes faint notes of toothpaste through the stronger tang of wine – Kim Jongin, an insanely attractive, world famous model, _brushed his teeth_ for him, a mere blogger.

Just because he can, Sehun drags his nails down the taut muscles of Jongin’s back and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his tailored pants. Jongin pulls Sehun even closer, their chests flush with one another’s, and Sehun can’t help but let out a moan when Jongin licks filthily into his mouth.

“I cannot believe,” Sehun mutters, eyes fluttering shut as Jongin kisses down his neck and unbuttons his shirt at the same time, “that you, Kim Jongin, wants to fuck me.”

“Sounds much dirtier when you say it like that,” Jongin responds, lips brushing against the pulse point on Sehun’s neck. The last button comes undone, and Sehun flings his shirt across the bar.

Fitting warm hands around Sehun’s waist, Jongin walks the both of them away from the bar and towards the bedroom as he searches for a nice, soft spot on Sehun’s neck to place a hickey on. Sehun, torn between letting Jongin steer him to a bed and wanting to push Jongin up against a wall just so he can shamelessly grind their crotches together, ends up shoving a hand between their bodies to palm at Jongin’s cock.

“I cannot believe,” Sehun groans, marvelling at how he can feel everything through the material of Jongin’s pants, “that I’m _touching your dick_.”

“Doesn’t count,” Jongin teases. “It’s got clothes over it.”

 

 

 

  
Pressing Sehun’s hips deeper into the mattress, Jongin takes his time in marking the insides of Sehun’s thighs as thoroughly as possible. Slack-jawed at the sight of Jongin’s handsome face right next to his aching cock, Sehun wants to tighten his fingers in locks of Jongin’s hair and just tug, but can he?

Jongin kisses the base of Sehun’s cock and looks up at him through his lashes.

“You can touch me you know, I’m not something that should only be looked at. Touch me. Keep touching me.”

Sitting up, Sehun reaches for Jongin, closes the distance between them, and slides his tongue gently into Jongin’s mouth. Too wrapped up in the perfect pressure of Jongin’s lips against his, Sehun doesn’t feel Jongin draping a leg over his hip and inching closer – the only thing that hits him is the circling of Jongin’s fingers around his cock.

“Fuck. Yes,” he groans, angling his hips to give Jongin better access. He tries not to stare at Jongin’s very pretty erection – is everything about this man attractive?

Smiling, as if he can read Sehun’s mind, Jongin moves even closer and slides his cock up against the underside of Sehun’s deliberately. A whimper slips out between pink lips, and Jongin revels in it.

Indents form in the flesh of Jongin’s thighs as Sehun digs his nails into them, and Jongin takes that, along with breathy gasps and a twitching cock, as signs that he’s doing well.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come very soon,” Sehun warns, bucking up into the heat of Jongin’s hand.

“Can’t have that, can we?”

After one last pump and a swipe across a leaking slit, Jongin untangles himself from a flushed Sehun. Picking up the condom and lube that were resting on the nightstand, he takes a moment to push Sehun’s thighs apart and drink in the sight. The pad of his thumb brushes teasingly at Sehun’s entrance, and Jongin exhales in want when the ring of muscle clenches in response.

“Are you… sure about this? You can –”

“All I want right now is you inside me,” Sehun interrupts, “so yeah, I’m sure.”

Jongin doesn’t think he’s ever rolled a condom onto himself this quickly before. He slicks a finger with lube, and coats the rim of Sehun’s hole with a thin film – honestly, it’s just an excuse to see Sehun writhe. It’s addicting, the way Sehun sucks his finger in, and Jongin palms at Sehun’s leaking cock as he works him open.

“Come and kiss me,” Sehun urges, voice rough and dripping with an amalgamation of raw emotions. Jongin obeys, letting Sehun nibble of the swell of his lip. He pushes a second finger in, and swallows the moan right out of Sehun’s throat. A spread of his fingers causes Sehun to break the kiss and curse spectacularly, and Jongin curls his fingers with the sole intention of hearing Sehun beg.

Sehun all but shoves Jongin away, heels digging into the bed as he pulls himself off of Jongin’s fingers. He manhandles Jongin, all signs of carefulness thrown out the window the second he locks his ankles around Jongin’s waist and glares at the model. Jongin licks his lips, steadies himself on his knees and pushes in deep. Sehun’s hands fly up to grip at the headboard, and Jongin unwraps Sehun’s legs from around himself, pushing them up to Sehun’s chest. Jongin continues to push on the backs on Sehun’s knees until the blogger’s folded over at the waist, the backs of smooth, supple thighs on display for Jongin to see.

His grip on those thighs are as hard as his thrusts, and as Sehun’s moans begin to increase in frequency and pitch, Jongin starts to see clear finger marks appearing on the skin, evidence of what they’ve been up to. Glancing down, almost nervously, Jongin groans at the sight of his cock sinking in and out of Sehun, at the gentle bulge of Sehun’s balls, and the nice curve of his ass.

He takes the pressure off Sehun’s legs and lets them fall open onto either side of him – he needs to see Sehun’s face as he comes. But his plan backfires on him: the heat of Sehun’s gaze and the redness of his thoroughly chewed bottom lip tips Jongin right off the edge, and he comes with a tight moan of Sehun’s name and a death grip on slim hips.

He rocks deep into Sehun, thrusts drawn out and slow as he rides out his orgasm. Every time Jongin bottoms out, Sehun whimpers and tugs desperately on his swollen cock – he comes violently, hips bucking and thighs clenching almost painfully.

“If only you could see what I’m seeing,” Jongin groans, gently stroking the underside of Sehun’s (extremely sensitive) cock and swallowing a pathetic moan when it twitches at the touch and as Sehun’s walls clamp down around him in an overload of pleasure and tender nerves.

“Next time,” Sehun mumbles, chest heaving from exertion, “it’s my turn to be inside you.”

“Deal,” Jongin agrees, and pulls out slowly. He tries not to stare at the pink rim of muscle.

“Stop staring,” Sehun laughs, “and go take a shower.”

“I’ll stop if you join me.”

They come for a second time that night in each other’s hands, the empty bottle of body wash lying by their feet as they thrust up into each other’s slick palms. Sehun, feeling absolutely drained, barely manages to dry himself before he collapses into bed. The sheets are a nice, contrasting coolness against his heated skin, and he sighs in contentment before closing his eyes. Jongin joins him soon after, wrapping an arm around a taut waist – Sehun shifts closer to his body heat and Jongin gets a nice whiff of shampoo.

It’s almost noon when they wake up.

 

 

 

  
“I need your phone number,” Jongin tries to enunciate – it’s a little hard to speak when Sehun is so intent on kissing him senseless.

“I’ll give it to you if you follow me back on Instagram,” Sehun replies, nudging Jongin up against a wall and angling his head for better depth.

“That’s all?”

“And like all my pictures,” Sehun continues, grinning. Catching Jongin’s bottom lip between his teeth, he gives it a gentle tug.

“People will see,” Jongin complains the second he gets his lip back, but he really doesn’t care. It’s just liking a bunch of Instagram photos; he could totally do that.

… Well. He may be a little more infatuated than he thought.

“I know. Are you willing to deal with that?” Suddenly serious, Sehun pulls back and looks deep into Jongin’s eyes. “If we’re ever going to be... _something_ , I want to know you’re actually willing to sacrifice bits of your image for it. I mean, you have a much bigger profile than I do, and negative press will definitely affect you a lot more.”

“I can’t promise a smooth ride,” Jongin says carefully. “Like you said, I do have an important career to think about as well. But I like you, I do, and I would very much like to see where we could go and how our relationship would develop. I will try, but it has to be a mutual thing.”

“My hardcore fans already know I’m your fanboy,” Sehun shrugs. “It’s not going to be hard for me to fawn over you in posts on my blog.”

Jongin smiles and takes out his phone. “Okay. Here goes.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“What are you doing?”

“Writing a post on Jongin,” Sehun says, squinting as he scrolls through the hundreds and hundreds of photos he’s saved of Jongin. “I figure this is a good time for a post about him. I’ll talk about his love for that designer paper bag or something – it really doesn’t matter.”

“Why?”

“He says he’ll text me his number only when I do this,” Sehun explains.

“Was the sex that good?” Baekhyun pries.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sehun quips, finally deciding on one last photo. “Now shut up, I need to bullshit a couple of paragraphs.”

Two minutes after Sehun posts his new blog entry, he gets a text.

_You really think I’m the cutest guy you’ve met?_

Sehun tries to hide his blush.

_I didn’t think you’d read the fine print._

_I’ve signed so many contracts – the first thing I do is read the fine print. You’re cute._

Baekhyun manages to read the text over Sehun’s shoulder, and he shrieks so loudly Chanyeol punches him in the side just to shut him up. Kyungsoo sighs from where he’s stretched out on Sehun’s couch.

“There are already articles popping up about you two,” Junmyeon reports from the floor. Kyungsoo had refused to relinquish a section of the couch to his boyfriend, and poor Junmyeon had to make do with a scratchy rug underneath his butt.

“What? What’s it saying?” Sehun demands, spinning around on his chair to face Junmyeon.

“The articles are all essentially the same – they’re commenting on how Jongin’s liked all your pictures and followed you, and how you called him cute in your blog update. Speculations are pretty on point actually, lots of people are guessing that you two met during the Vogue party.”

“A few think you two have actually been dating for a while,” Kyungsoo adds in mild surprise. “Couple wear..? Or something..?”

Sehun splutters.

_Have you seen the articles on Naver and stuff?_

_My manager’s shown me quite a few,_ Jongin replies. _Quite amusing, I must say. Turns out we have matching bracelets – a thin, silver band. Did you know that?_

 _No, I didn’t_ , Sehun types back. _It’s a sign._

_You’re cute. Eunsol, my manager, thinks so too. She’s… fangirling(?) next to me._

 

 

 

  
They venture out into public for their first date. Armed with sunglasses and quality earphones, Sehun considers the trip to the café a few blocks down from his apartment relatively uneventful – it’s only when Jongin joins him at their booth do things start to kick off.

“You bring a ridiculous amount of paparazzi with you,” Sehun says, eyes widening as he chances a glance out the window. There are over two dozen cameras out there, and their shutters do not stop going off.

“I have to deal with them every day,” Jongin sighs as he scans the coffee menu. The waitress who comes up to them looks like she’s about to faint and shriek at the same time.

Jongin orders two lattes, one with an extra espresso shot.

“That’s usually why I don’t go out on weekends,” Jongin continues, passing the menu to the waitress. She leaves with a deep bow, and Sehun watches her go in amusement.

“Today’s a weekend,” Sehun comments lightly, playing with the silver band around his wrist. Jongin notices.

“Yes, but I get to see you. And I see you’ve found the bracelet I was talking about.”

Sehun blinks innocently. “This? Oh, is this what you were talking about? I didn’t know.”

Their mugs of coffee arrive, and Sehun hurries to hide his (really dopey) smile behind the porcelain. He prays that none of the cameras out on the street manage to capture it.

“I have a show about three weeks from now – would you like to be my guest? I’ll be walking for a few local designers that have just started out in the business.”

“I could do a blog post on the show,” Sehun muses. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I’ll get my manager to send you the details – if I leave it up to me, I’d forget. Feel free to bring someone else, too. I get to invite two guests, but I really only want you there.”

“Stop being so straightforward,” Sehun complains, trying to ignore his burning cheeks. “I have an image to uphold.”

“It’s cute when you blush,” Jongin tells him. “I like it.”

Sehun blushes even harder and ends up completely turning away from the cameras.

 

 

 

  
“Oh my god,” Baekhyun whispers, “everything looks so glamourous!”

“It’s a fashion show,” Sehun says flatly. “Of course it’s glamourous.”

Thankfully, Eunsol finds them before they manage to look over their seats and get lost – she steers them towards the front row, and Sehun has to grip Baekhyun’s arm extremely hard in order to suppress the flood of excitement that is definitely threatening to rise to the surface in his friend.

“Front row?” Baekhyun squeaks. “I love your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sehun says idly, pulling out his digital camera (his DSLR’s too bulky and he’s not a fan of lugging it around). He needs to take good pictures today if he wants to make a blog post on the show. Being here kills two birds with one stone; he gets to watch Jongin work and he gets to write a first-hand piece on a fashion show. Jongin’s manager says something about hoping that they’ll have a good time and that she’ll bring them backstage when the show’s done, and promptly disappears after the last word flies off her tongue.

“She’s cute,” Baekhyun comments. Sehun blinks at him.

Before he can bombard Baekhyun with questions, however, the house lights dim and the runway lights illuminate. When the first model steps onto the runway, Sehun gets down to business and trains his camera onto the model and the garments she’s walking.

It takes eight models (Sehun was _not_ counting) for Jongin to appear. The energy in the room seems to rise a few notches when Jongin starts walking, and Sehun’s finger on the shutter does not ease up until Jongin finishes his first walk and heads backstage.

“You took a lot of photos,” Baekhyun says, looking over at Sehun with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Sehun replies. “Or I won’t introduce you to Eunsol later. She’s single, by the way. I know you’re wondering.”

Baekhyun colours spectacularly.

 

 

 

  
Jongin closes each designer’s section as well as the two-hour long show. He walks his last walk with supple thighs swathed in a tight pair of ripped jeans and a barely clothed torso, covered with nothing but a mesh tank. The five designers follow him out onto the runway, and there’s a loud, steady shower of applause that the designers drink in before the room floods with light and the models return backstage. A designer spots Sehun in the crowd, and she comes over to shake his hand and give him a name card. He pockets it, congratulates her on a good show, and promises to write a solid piece on her line.

Refreshments are brought out, and guests mingle with models and designers as the excitement of the show starts to mellow out. Eunsol finds Sehun sorting through his photos, and Baekhyun accidentally treads on his toes when she approaches them out of nervousness. Sehun, eyes watering slightly from the pain, has to hobble after her as Baekhyun apologises profusely in hushed tones.

“You owe me,” Sehun mutters. “Anything and everything I want.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun agrees instantly. “Of course.”

Eunsol is blissfully oblivious to their exchange, and she leads them through throngs of people towards Jongin’s dressing room. Before she opens the door, she pauses and glances at Sehun.

“Could I… have a picture with you? I’m quite a fan of your blog,” she says.

Baekhyun volunteers to take the picture.

As Eunsol pockets her phone, a new photo saved, Sehun slings an arm across Baekhyun’s shoulders and drags him forward.

“Eunsol, meet Baekhyun. We’ve been friends since we were toddlers.”

She opens the door and steps aside to let them in. Before she can greet Baekhyun in response, however, Sehun says a little something else.

“He thinks you’re really pretty.”

He bolts from Baekhyun’s side and dashes over to Jongin, who’s seated in front of a large, makeup table.

“Hi, you.”

“Hi,” Sehun replies, smiling.

“Did you like the show? Good stuff for your blog?”

Settling his weight onto the table, Sehun nods and waves his camera in Jongin’s face.

“I’ll have lots to write about tonight. Loads of nice fashion out there – I may even consider getting a couple of items when they’re launched.”

“I can get them for you before they’re launched. For free?” Jongin offers, but Sehun declines his offer.

“I don’t want to use you for free stuff.”

Jongin squeezes Sehun’s knee and gets back to wiping heavy makeup off his eyelids. Sehun looks through the mirror and sees Baekhyun chatting animatedly to Eunsol – amazingly, Eunsol looks entirely enraptured by whatever Baekhyun’s saying. Sehun hopes he’s not regaling any childhood stories of the both of them to her.

“I don’t think you’ll get around to writing an entry tonight though,” Jongin says, tossing a used makeup remover pad into the trashcan.

“Why not?”

“I’m inviting myself over. Your place is much closer than mine from here.”

“Is that right?”

“You don’t believe me?” Indignant, Jongin twists around in his seat and calls for Eunsol. “Please tell this boy here that my place is really far from here.”

“It actually is,” Eunsol laughs. “At least a two hour drive.”

Sehun turns to Jongin, surprised. “And you came all the way here for our date last time?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

Sehun doesn't quite know what to say. Jongin grins up at him.

“You look like you want to kiss me.”

“No I don’t,” Sehun says automatically. “Not at all.”

“You can kiss me later. When we’re alone. In your home.”

 

 

 

  
Leaving Eunsol and Baekhyun to fend for themselves, Jongin manages to lose most of the ever constant horde of paparazzi in the traffic, weaving in and out of lanes with Sehun in the passenger seat.

It’s way past dinner time when Sehun finally closes the door to his loft apartment behind them. He whips up two bowls of homemade kimchi ramyeon for the both them as Jongin hops in the shower and rinses off residual traces of makeup, hairspray, and glitter.

When Jongin emerges from the bathroom with a head of fluffy hair and a pair of Sehun’s sweatpants hung low on his hips, Sehun finally gives in to his not-so-hidden desires and kisses a warm Jongin deeply and slowly.

“It sucks that you’re a little taller than me,” Jongin says when Sehun finally pulls away. “Your sweatpants cover my feet.” Sure enough, Sehun can barely see the tips of Jongin’s toes when he looks down.

They eat quickly, and Jongin hangs off of Sehun’s shoulders like a content puppy as the blogger does the dishes.

“Hey, how good are you with massages?”

“Well, I wouldn’t make sore shoulders worse?”

Jongin claps and peels himself away from Sehun. “I’ve got horrible aches in my shoulders and lower back; do you think you can spend a few minutes unknotting them?”

“I can try.” Sehun dries his hands and follows Jongin into his bedroom.

Planting himself face-down onto Sehun’s pillow, Jongin closes his eyes and lets the pitter patter of Sehun’s feet fill his ears. Drawers are pulled open and things are moved about on dressers and countertops – and although Jongin’s eyes are heavy, he listens to the homey sounds with rapt attention. For a brief moment, he envisions a day in the far future: he’s old, wrinkled, and with a head of grey hair that’s equally messy as it is now. There’ll be children and grandchildren, hopefully, and the sounds that ring in his ears are the same ones he’s hearing presently, in Sehun’s room, on Sehun’s bed.

But will he ever get to cross fall in love, start a family, have a family, off of life’s checklist?

His thoughts are interrupted when Sehun lets out a triumphant sound and returns to the bedside.

“I found baby oil,” Sehun tells him, “it’s not massage oil, but it’ll have to do. Where does it hurt?”

“My whole back, pretty much. Old injury from when I was in my high school dance team.”

A calming hum from Sehun’s throat fills the air around them, and Jongin feels tension slowly seep out of his muscles. When Sehun finally presses the heels of his oiled palms on the small of Jongin’s back and kneads upwards, Jongin lets out a blissful groan and wriggles deeper into the sheets.

“A little to the right, please,” Jongin mumbles, and Sehun adjusts his hands accordingly.

He takes a seat by Jongin’s side and works quietly, the pads of his fingers gradually working out the tightness in Jongin’s muscles. He’s certain that Jongin’s long fallen asleep, but the second he retracts his hands, Jongin shifts and twists his around to peer sleepily at Sehun. There’s a glint in his eyes that Sehun knows is not any form of weariness.

“My thighs are sore too,” Jongin informs him, turning around to lie on his back. Raising an eyebrow, Sehun presses the flat of his hand on Jongin’s hip and hooks his fingers around the waistband of his sweats.

“Really?”

“Really sore,” Jongin nods emphatically.

The slide of the sweatpants down Jongin’s thighs is excruciatingly slow, and Sehun keeps them bunched up around Jongin’s knees just because. Sparking heat with the help of friction caused by rubbing his palms up and down Jongin’s quads, Sehun takes the time to map out the subtle contours of strong muscles underneath his fingers, pointedly avoiding touching any sliver of skin near Jongin’s crotch.

He strokes the insides, runs the pads of his thumbs up, up, up until his nails are a hair’s width away from the seams of Jongin’s thighs and pelvis. Hips lift slightly, and Jongin manages to push the sweatpants completely off his legs.

Jongin doesn’t even have to ask – Sehun rids him of his boxer briefs and takes his growing erection in a slick hand, the other coming to support his weight as he leans down and kisses Jongin softly.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sehun promises.

An oiled index finger pushes past the rim of Jongin’s entrance and fills him up. An intense mix of need, want, and lust settles into the burning pit of Jongin’s gut, and when Sehun does something absolutely amazing with his hand, Jongin lets out the dirtiest moan he’s ever heard himself make. A soft pressure makes itself known on the cleft of his balls, and Jongin writhes under Sehun’s touch.

When Sehun’s three fingers knuckle deep inside Jongin, the model scrabbles at the front of Sehun’s shirt and all but rips it off. It’s with great reluctance that Sehun pulls his fingers out of the slick heat, but he needs to yank his pants off and roll on a condom, and that’ll be too hard to accomplish with Jongin clenched around his digits.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Pulling Sehun closer when he feels him slide in, Jongin sinks his teeth into the flesh of Sehun’s shoulder and moans into a mouthful of smooth skin. He hasn’t been stretched open like this in ages, and pleasure is only magnified by the fact that Sehun’s cock is curved just right, perfect for brushing the sweet spot inside him.

Things get darker behind his closed lids, and Jongin cracks them open to find that Sehun’s thrown the covers over them. There are teeth teasing his earlobe, and Sehun’s hand is pumping his cock in the same rhythm as his thrusts. A rough rub over the slit of his cock has him coming hot into Sehun’s hand, and Jongin digs his nails into the sheets as white-hot floods his veins. The pumping doesn’t slow down – another wave of pleasure slams down on him before the first one has the chance to ebb as Sehun keeps fisting his twitching cock, and Jongin has to pry Sehun’s fingers off in order to shudder through his orgasm and catch a breath.

Rubbing Jongin’s sides soothingly, Sehun chases after his own orgasm with rapid snaps of his hips. He climaxes soon after Jongin does and imagines the feeling of filling Jongin up with his come one day.

“Oh God that was – _fuck, don’t do that_.”

Sehun chuckles and gives the tender head of Jongin’s cock another stroke.

“Why? It’s so hot; look at how your dick twitches at the slightest touch.”

“No,” Jongin whines, slapping Sehun’s hand away.

Surrendering, Sehun lifts his weight off of Jongin and pulls out.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Jongin mutters, too drowsy to move. “Stay here.”

“I have to throw the condom away,” Sehun points out, emerging from under the covers. “And I haven’t showered yet.”

“Don’t care,” is the less-than-coherent response.

But when Sehun pokes his head into his bedroom after tossing out the used condom, Jongin’s already sound asleep, a hand tucked underneath his cheek. Smiling, Sehun ducks into the shower for a quick one.

Baby oil is sure to get on his clean skin, but Sehun doesn’t really mind, snuggling right up to Jongin and closing his eyes. They can always take a shower in the morning together.

 

 

 

  
Jongin wakes up a little too early for his tastes, and he can feel the low burn in his ass, serving as a reminder for the night they shared. Angling his head, he spots Sehun fast asleep, hair all over the pillow as he snores softly. Slowly, Jongin reaches for his phone on the nightstand and takes a picture of himself looking down at a peacefully sleeping Sehun. He doesn’t set it as his wallpaper – it’s not the right time for that yet.

 

 

 

  
For the next couple of months, they meet up every week for dates, and Sehun can’t believe how well things are going. He wakes up to smiley faces from Jongin, and he’ll stay on the phone with him at night until one of them falls asleep. They haven’t discussed the status of their relationship, content with just going on dates and getting to know each other. To top it all off, Baekhyun had finally asked Eunsol out on a date after much wheedling from both Sehun and Jongin – she’d accepted with a wide smile.

His blog is receiving double the traffic, and his entry on the fashion show that Jongin had invited him to is the most viewed post in his blog’s history (it might have something to do with the huge paragraph he had dedicated just to fanboy over Supermodel Kim Jongin, coupled with the flood of tabloid photos showing the two of them leaving the venue together). New articles pop up daily in every corner of the web, all speculating over the nature of their relationship – Sehun estimates that an approximate 80% of these articles assume they’ve been dating for years now.

Yet, there’s a constant gnawing at his gut. He’s been prepared for bad press ever since their first night together, and yet there’s been a grand total of zero (major) negative articles. With the extent of Jongin’s fame, something bad is bound to happen – but when?

It comes in the form of grainy, blown up pictures that flood onto the Internet sometime during their third month of dating. The thing is, Sehun didn’t quite expect this.

“Sehun?”

“Yeah?” Something in Junmyeon’s voice catches Sehun’s attention, and he stops cleaning his workstation in favour of looking over his shoulder at his friend.

“I think you might want to see this.”

Not missing the look that Junmyeon exchanges with Kyungsoo, a feeling akin to dread digs itself into Sehun’s bones. The brief stride over to the couch seems like an awfully long walk, and when he gets within arm’s reach of Junmyeon, Sehun suddenly feels like turning away.

“This is about Jongin, isn’t it?”

Neither Kyungsoo nor Junmyeon answers him, which is an answer in and of itself. Heart thudding away against his ribcage, Sehun takes the phone proffered to him.

Filling the screen and burning into the back of his eyelids are pictures of Jongin and a mystery girl outside his house. Jongin being with a girl isn’t what bothers Sehun – it’s the fact that they’re holding hands and Jongin’s kissing her on the cheek that does. The photos were taken last night. Jongin didn’t call last night. Sure, they’ve never talked about exclusivity, but it stings all the same.

Swallowing around the painful lump in his throat, Sehun passes the phone back to Junmyeon and shrugs.

“We’re not technically a couple,” he shrugs. “He can do what he wants.”

“Sehun –”

“I have to go take a few shots for my Instagram. Be back soon.”

Grabbing his camera and tripod, Sehun fires off a text to Chanyeol and exits the loft. But when he steps out of the elevator and glimpses the sheer amount of paparazzi outside just waiting to pounce on him, he turns on his heel and hightails it back into the old, moving metal box. After sending another message to Chanyeol telling him to forget about the shoot, Sehun pockets his phone and slumps against the side of the lift.

His phone vibrates as the elevator door slides open, and Sehun assumes it’s a reply from Chanyeol. He doesn’t check it until he drops off his equipment onto his workstation and manages to half-convince the couple on his couch that he’s doing okay.

The name appearing across the screen of his phone is not Chanyeol’s.

“It’s Jongin,” Sehun murmurs, staring at the name. He doesn’t open the message.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t read the text.”

Kyungsoo extends his hand. “Do you want me to read it?”

Sehun places his phone on Kyungsoo’s open palm.

“He’s asking if you’re still free for your date tomorrow,” Kyungsoo says after a brief pause.

“Tell him I’m busy,” Sehun mumbles. “Tell him I’m meeting someone else. I can, can’t I? If we’re not exclusive?”

Sehun doesn’t give Kyungsoo nor Junmyeon a chance to reply before he heads into his bedroom and closes the door. Junmyeon sighs and pillows his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“I’ve grown up with that boy and I rarely see him this upset. The last time was when he missed the principal’s honour roll by a less than a percent in 11th grade,” Kyungsoo mutters. He glances down at the screen and unwillingly types out Sehun’s reply.

When Jongin replies, he sets it aside for Sehun to read.

Hours after Kyungsoo and Junmyeon let themselves out of Sehun’s apartment, Sehun reemerges from his room, his stomach growling too intensely for his comfort. He checks his phone out of habit and sees Jongin’s latest texts.

_What? Who are you meeting? Is it a date?_

_Sehun? Is this about Dahee?_

_Talk to me, Sehun. If you don’t talk to me we can’t work this out._

_Please?_

Sehun returns to his room without grabbing dinner and falls into a fitful sleep. His phone lies on the couch – the battery dies at the crack of dawn, a result of Jongin calling at ten-minute intervals for hours.

 

 

 

  
Too focused on finishing up a sponsored blog entry, Sehun doesn’t notice the door to his apartment open and close. When Baekhyun yanks an earbud out of his ear, Sehun yells and nearly rolls his chair over his friend’s toes.

“What the fuck! I gave you a key for emergencies, not to sneak up on me like this and –”

“This _is_ an emergency,” Baekhyun cuts in. “You’re ignoring Jongin.”

Sehun’s expression sours. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, for the past week? I don’t think so. You’ve only updated your Instagram two times, alright. You haven’t posted an **#ootd** in the past three days. That’s not being busy.”

“If you’re here to lecture me, you can leave,” Sehun deadpans. He turns back to his computer, but Baekhyun spins his chair back around.

“Eunsol explained it to me. You need to hear Jongin out. It’ll clear everything up.”

Sehun stares at his friend until Baekhyun retracts his hand from the back of his chair.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

 

 

 

  
The next day, Sehun wakes up to hundreds of comments on his latest blog post, and a good 85% of them are questions about his relationship with Jongin or Jongin’s relationship with Dahee, or both. He doesn’t read through a single one. There are five new text messages on his phone – three from Baekhyun, one from Junmyeon, and one from Jongin. Sehun deletes the ones from Baekhyun without reading them. Junmyeon had sent him a picture of two fluffy corgis that Sehun can’t help but smile at, and he texts back an appropriate smiley.

 _Please let me see you_ , is what Jongin’s text says.

Sehun sets the phone down and heads into the bathroom. He’ll reply to that, but he needs to take an **#ootd** first. What Baekhyun said during his visit yesterday reminded Sehun that he’s way behind on Instagram updates.

Chanyeol responds to his text instantly (probably feels sorry for him and is doing his best to keep Sehun's mood at an acceptable level), saying that he’ll be down by the wall in a few minutes. Sehun changes into a pair of dark red jeans, a white dress shirt, and shoves his feet into a pair of Chelsea boots. He doesn't forget his sunglasses.

The entrance to his building is still surrounded by vultures and their cameras, but Sehun pushes his sunglasses on and all but shoves his way through them. He makes it out (relatively) unscathed. As he nears the brick wall, Sehun spots yet another crowd of people. It’s a larger crowd than usual, but since he’s used to having a crowd around the wall, Sehun doesn’t question it. He doesn’t see Chanyeol’s gangly frame amongst the others, but he’s used to the photographer being late, too.

Ignoring the people around him who are trying to get his attention, Sehun busies himself with setting up his tripod and securing his camera in place. It’s only when he’s done and has nothing else to waste his time on does he give the crowd the slightest bit of attention. They all seem to be pointing to the wall behind him, and Sehun turns around curiously.

Spray painted on the wall is the iconic Instagram frame, and filling the space where a picture would be are multiple photographs that join together to form a bigger image. Throat clenching, Sehun stares through watery eyes and tinted lenses at the picture of himself sound asleep on Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin gazing down at him with all the affection in the world.

When he finally manages to tear his gaze away from the picture, he spots the spray painted caption beneath it.

_There is only you. Believe me. **#boyfriend**_

“We were all counting on the fact that you’d at least update your Instagram daily.” Chanyeol’s voice floats into his ears, and Sehun turns around to see his friend standing behind him, a smile on his face. “Better late than never.”

“I should,” Sehun starts, “um.”

“He’s at your place,” Chanyeol says. “Go. I’ll bring your stuff over later.”

“Thanks.”

But before he breaks into a run, Sehun turns back towards Chanyeol. “Could you…”

“I’ll take lots of pictures,” Chanyeol promises. “Now go on.”

The wind dries up his tears as he runs.

 

 

 

When Sehun steps into his apartment, Jongin’s got his back to him as he flips through one of the photo albums that Sehun keeps in a neat stack on a counter.

“You were a cute kid,” Jongin comments, flipping a page. “You still have the same smile.”

Something clicks into place inside his head, and Sehun doesn’t waste another second wallowing in insecurities and hesitations.

“I missed you,” he states. “I really missed you.”

“And I was waiting for you,” Jongin answers, closing the album and placing it back onto the pile. “I still am.”

“You really do like me,” Sehun ventures, fingers gripping the back of an armchair. He takes a step forward.

“I really do like you,” Jongin confirms. “Just you.”

Hearing those words in the voice Sehun’s come to associate with happiness triggers a whole new waterfall of emotions inside him, and heavy weights fall off his shoulders as if they were never meant to be there in the first place.

As he watches Jongin speak, Sehun imagines the feeling of Jongin’s lips against his. Thankfully, Jongin notices the subtle flick of Sehun’s eyes and figures out what Sehun wants. Crossing the width of the living room, Jongin pushes Sehun up against the door and presses their fronts together, lips moving in a familiar dance with so much surety that Sehun digs his nails into Jongin’s hips and pulls back to let a few words tumble out of his mouth.

“ _I really missed you_ ,” he chokes out, and Jongin brushes tears away from his cheeks that he never knew were there. “I never had a date with anyone else, you know?”

“I know, Sehun, I know. And time is relative,” Jongin soothes, kissing his forehead. “We can always make up for lost time.”

Nudging Jongin’s nose with his own, Sehun directs Jongin’s lips back onto his.

“Do you want me to explain now?” Jongin asks between kisses, thumbs sliding up Sehun’s jaw.

“Later,” is Sehun’s answer.

 

 

 

  
Later turns out to be two hours later. The sheets are soft on his naked back, and Sehun breathes Jongin’s scent as he buries his nose deeper into the crook of the model’s neck. There are fingers tracing lazy patterns down his spine and over the curve of his ass, and Sehun thinks that this feels right.

“You can tell me now,” Sehun mumbles, slipping a leg between Jongin’s.

“Dahee is my childhood friend. Her mother went to school with mine, and have been best friends for decades. We grew up together. She was the first person I came out to, and vice versa – she’s aromantic and asexual. She’s never spotted with me because she moved to Australia right when we started high school, and this is the first time she’s been back since then. She came back because her uncle passed away, and she wanted to see me after the wake. The kiss on the cheek is something we’ve been doing since we were kids. She knows about you. Thinks you’re cute, too.”

“Why didn’t you talk to the press about this?”

“You deserve more than an explanation through a web article,” Jongin says. “I wanted to wait until you heard it from me.”

“You should talk to them soon –”

“Eunsol’s taking care of that right now,” Jongin assures him. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m sorry,” Sehun blurts. “I should’ve listened to your explanations when you texted me the first time. I was so ready for something bad to happen that I just assumed the worst and refused to face things as they were.”

Shifting onto his side, Jongin rakes a hand through Sehun’s hair and smiles. The sweet curve of his lips sends an ache shooting straight through Sehun’s heart.

“It’s shitty, being in the entertainment industry. Generates a lot of paranoia. I understand, Sehun. Hey, I remember the first time I saw a picture of you in a magazine giving Baekhyun a piggyback ride – I was jealous and I didn’t even know you personally back then.”

“That hashtag,” Sehun begins. “Really?”

“The post is also on my Instagram,” Jongin informs him. “Word for word.”

Sehun knocks his alarm clock off the nightstand in his haste to grab his phone. “I need a picture too.”

 

 

 

  
In the end, Sehun creates a whole new, separate Instagram account for pictures that aren’t **#ootd** s – his posts on that account are namely pictures of him and Jongin, along with the occasional (stupid) picture of his friends that he posts for shits and giggles.

His most liked Instagram picture of all time is one of him smiling at Jongin with their fingers interlaced, and Chanyeol constantly reminds the both of them that he’s the photographer. Jongin takes over the account on occasions, and the first time he tags a picture of the two of them with **#powercouple** , the Internet blows up.

“I love you, you know that right?” Jongin says one day, spatula in hand as he whips up a quick stir fry.

Sehun glances at the lock screen of Jongin’s phone – it’s a picture of them down by the corner of his block, smiling faces an inch apart. He breaks into a matching smile.

“I know,” Sehun replies happily. “I love you too.”

Sometime during their seventh month as an official couple, Jongin manages to convince Sehun to join him in a shoot for Vogue’s summer special edition issue. When Sehun steps onto the set, he nearly trips over a prop in shock – a grinning Chanyeol’s their photographer.

The issue goes on to set the national record for the summer issue with the highest sales number across all publications, and it marks the stepping stone for future (and equally successful) collaborations between the two of them. Chanyeol’s career takes off, and he gives Jongin a hug every time they meet, much to the indignation of Sehun.

Sehun draws the line at walking down runways, content with being in the front row and watching his boyfriend do his thing. The Milk Bottle is still running, and the number of sponsored posts Sehun has to write in a month is now well into the dozens. And with the number of fashion shows he gets to go to, Sehun has more than enough material to use in his blog posts.

His **#ootd** s are still taken by the brick wall, and a fair number of them feature Jongin’s spray painted Instagram until bouts of rain finally manage to wash it away (Sehun moves the photographs into a frame and hangs it up in his room).

The world finds out about Jongin’s plans for proposing before Sehun does. Sixteen months into their relationship, Jongin posts a picture of the ring (it matches their matching bracelets!) on their joint Instagram, along with the caption:

_**#powercouple** in sickness and in health, until death do us part?_

The proposal itself goes down in the café where they had their first date, and Sehun says yes the second Jongin gets down on one knee, the ring box still unopened in his hands. Junmyeon’s there to film everything, and he promises to include the clip in their wedding video – that he’s in charge of as well, of course.

Later, Jongin takes a picture of the ring of Sehun’s finger and posts it on Instagram with the caption:

_**#powercouple** in sickness and in health, until death do us part. :)_

 

 

 

  
(Sehun refuses to let Baekhyun have a say in the wedding, leaving everything up to Kyungsoo and Eunsol.

“You’re my best man, and I’m sure that’s enough responsibility for you.”

“Yes, but – wait. I’m _what?_ ”

 

 

 

  
On the day of the wedding, Sehun passes Junmyeon a bouquet on his way to the dance floor for their first dance.

“What’s this for?”

Sehun simply smiles and motions for Junmyeon to turn around, taking the camera from Junmyeon’s hands as he does so. There, standing next to an equally smiley Jongin, is Kyungsoo. There’s a small box in his hands.

There are perks to being friends with a cinematographer, Sehun thinks. He manages to record the whole proposal, and it looks absolutely amazing. Jongin gives him a kiss the moment Junmyeon says yes, and Sehun mentally apologises for unnecessary movements of the camera.)

**Author's Note:**

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